Open Your Eyes: Care
by corneroffandom
Summary: After a grievous mistake, Del Rio is determined to make it up to Ricardo.


Alberto Del Rio sighs, resting a heavy hand on the hotel room door as he shuts it behind him. Turning, he finds Ricardo Rodriguez sitting at the edge of the bed, head lowered so his dark hair shadows his eyes. The older man's heart breaks a little more as he pulls away from the door and walks towards him. "Mi valiente," he says softly.

Ricardo merely sniffs, looking away as Alberto kneels in front of him, hands resting on his knees. What of his face that is visible is tense in pain and Alberto sighs wearily as he cups his jaw and tries to make him look up. "Ricardo, let me help you," he whispers. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to..." He tries to touch Ricardo's arm, but the younger man recoils sharply, breathing heavily. Alberto immediately freezes and swallows. "Ricardo..."

"I know it was part of the plan, but..." he sobs quietly. "You- I thought you were going to break my arm. If Rob hadn't been there to stop you..." He releases another soft sob. "After my ankle, I just... I thought you'd be more careful."

Del Rio closes his eyes, feeling utterly horrible. "I am so sorry, mi valiente," he breathes out, tears glistening in his eyes. "I meant to be, I just... it... I'm so sorry." He once more reaches out and smiles through his tears as Ricardo allows the touch this time, staring down at him morosely. "I know I was going too far but I was so angry at Vickie Guerrero for putting us in that predictament to begin with... I know it's no explanation, that I shouldn't take it out on you."

Ricardo takes a breath as Alberto tenderly strokes his arm over the sling. "No, you shouldn't," he agrees brokenly.

Del Rio closes his eyes, sighing sadly. "Will you let me try to make this better?"

"How do you think you can?" he wonders quietly, still not quite able to look his former employer in the eye.

"Trust me?" he offers weakly, knowing again that it's maybe asking too much, especially after his actions tonight. "Por favor, mi valiente." Ricardo neither agrees nor disagrees and Alberto swallows, squeezing his knees gently before standing, determined to see this through.

The bathroom, he knows, is incredible because he had booked it especially for this reason, and so he goes there first, fiddling with settings on the jacuzzi until perfectly warm, almost hot, water is filling the porcelain. As soon as it's mostly filled, he returns to Ricardo and helps him to his feet, softly working the sling off before easing his shirt off over his sore arm. "Alright?"

"What are you doing?" he asks, breathing heavily while his arm throbs painfully at his side, Alberto helping him with the rest of his clothes as well.

"You'll see," he whispers, resting a hand on Ricardo's back as he guides him into the bathroom, staying quiet as the ring announcer takes it all in. "The jacuzzi is prepared just the way you like it, mi valiente."

Ricardo sniffs and glances at Alberto, taking in how he's still dressed. "Mostly," he murmurs, trying to hold his achy arm to his side as he approaches the tub, pondering how to enter safely.

This is all the invite Alberto requires as he holds a hand out, stopping Ricardo. "Uno momento," he says softly, quickly shrugging off his dress jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Ricardo watches, wide eyed, as he leaves them and the rest of his clothes on the sink before turning back to the tub, gently stepping inside. "There we go." Ricardo swallows as Alberto reaches out for him, loosely gripping his bad arm and stabilizing him with his good, easing him into the tub so he doesn't slip and fall. As the warm water bubbles around his body, Alberto smiles at him, waiting for the verdict.

"Perfect," he finally admits, eyes closed in slow growing bliss.

Relieved, Alberto sits down and pulls him into the water gently until he's circled in the Mexican aristocrat's arms, Alberto kissing his jaw as he relaxes against him. "Just rest, mi valiente. I've got you." As the jets filter the water around them, Alberto leans over enough to snag a bottle of scented oil, rubbing it between his hands until it's warm. Ricardo is barely aware of what he's doing until his warm fingers rest on his tender shoulder, the ring announcer immediately jerking awake as he looks over at his former employer warily, half-asleep and confused. Swallowing down the pain this expression on Ricardo's face brings him, Alberto forces a smile. "It's ok, mi valiente. Just trust me."

After a few minutes of Alberto smoothing his fingers over the inflamed muscles and joints in his arm, Ricardo sighs and relaxes into his touch as the pain eases a little under his ministrations. "Lo siento," he murmurs after a few minutes. "I... shouldn't have doubted..."

"No, no, I don't blame you, mi valiente," he whispers back, pouring more of the oil into his palms. "Just relax. Everything will be alright." He continues to stroke his fingers down the younger man's arm, relieved that he seems to be feeling better as he tilts his head and nuzzles into Alberto's neck, breath warm and steady against his flesh. "I love you," he hums softly, still working over his arm even after the oil dries into his flesh, disinterested in moving to grab the bottle yet again. Ricardo seems content anyway, leaning against him while he carefully massages from his elbow to shoulder and back down.

"I love you too," he sighs sleepily.

When Alberto's hands slow against his arm, Ricardo's eyes lazily open, eyelashes fluttering against the Mexican aristocrat's throat, and he smiles, shifting slightly to kiss him. "Ready to get out?" he asks, smiling against the ticklish sensation.

"Si," he mutters after a few moments, loathe for Alberto to stop holding him. "This was nice... gracias, El Patron."

Alberto smiles and grips the side of the tub, shifting out from under Ricardo to get to his feet and grab a couple of towels, wrapping one haphazardly around himself before turning to the younger man and easing him out of the water, lightly rubbing the other against his flesh to help dry him. "Come, come. Let's go rest in the main room for awhile." He leads him out to the bed and helps him settle down, gently guiding his bad arm back into the sling to ensure that he won't hurt himself further. "Are you hungry?"

Ricardo swallows and watches as he approaches the room service menu, casting a quick glance over the options there. "Si, I... I think... A little."

Alberto glances up at him a moment before smiling sadly. "Alright, I'll order us something. Close your eyes and rest, I'll let you know when it's here." As Ricardo follows his suggestion, his weariness quickly drawing him into the dark numbness of sleep, the Mexican aristocrat grabs the hotel phone and places the call, relieved that the kitchen hasn't closed just yet, and even more so that it'll take around half an hour for everything to be prepared and brought up, giving the ring announcer time to just be. He hangs the phone up and turns back to the bed, eyes gleaming with love and sadness as he takes in the tight pain remaining on Ricardo's face. Slipping into bed next to him, he's careful not to jostle him as he hugs him and trails a soft kiss against his cheek. "Lo siento, mi valiente. There's not much I can do to make this up to you, but I'll try," he promises, watching him sleep until there's a knock at the door almost twenty minutes later.

He gently pulls away from Ricardo and heads for the door, thanking the hotel worker as he pulls the cart into the room, Alberto content to tip him generously when he turns to find that the noise had been kept to enough of a minimum that Ricardo is still asleep. Once he's gone, Alberto crawls onto the bed once more and trails soft, searching kisses along Ricardo's lips and jaw, smiling when he starts to stir underneath him. "Food's here," he tells him quietly. Ricardo yawns and rubs at his face with his good hand, frowning down at his other arm for a moment before his face falls, remembering what had happened. Del Rio's eyes darken as he cups the younger man's face and looks into his fearful, glum features. "Lo siento, Ricardo. Please forgive me..."

"I do," he murmurs finally, surprising his former employer. Squeezing Alberto's wrist with his one useable hand, he looks over his shoulder at the table. "What did you order?"

"Pot roast," he says, moving to collect their plates. "It's something different from what we usually eat, at any rate." As he settles back into bed next to Ricardo, he chuckles and shakes his head when the ring announcer reaches out for his. "No, no, mi valiente. Just give me a moment, hm?" He turns and collects something off of the bedside table, putting it on Ricardo's side of the bed. "Diet coke to drink... and now, there's only one thing I want you to do." He smiles down at the younger man. "Lay there and rest... I will help you to eat, hm?"

"Oh- uh, no, you've already done plenty tonight, it's not-"

"Ricardo," Alberto cuts off his suddenly frantic-sounding refusals. "I would do it all over again if it'd make up even the slightest for my earlier actions. I should've been more careful, I truly meant to be. But my anger yet again got the best of me and you paid for it. Allow me a little time to pamper you, as you have done for me so many times over the years. Por favor?"

Ricardo's shoulders slump as he forks up some of the meat and vegetables, waiting for Ricardo's verdict. "Si," he finally whispers, wanting nothing more than to take that guilty look out of Del Rio's eyes. "Fine, gracias." Alberto merely smiles and leans over, taking it in turns between feeding him and eating some of the delicious food himself.

By the time they've ate the majority of what's on their plates, Ricardo's eyes are fluttering shut again, Alberto pausing to watch as he drifts, nodding sleepily even as he tries to sip from the Coke bottle in a valiant attempt to stay awake even a little longer. He chuckles warmly and collects the soda before it can slip from his fingers, surprising him enough to open his eyes for a moment. "You're exhausted, mi valiente." He kisses the top of his head before getting up, putting their plates back on the tray and rolling the cart out into the hall to be picked up by the staff whenever. When he returns to the bed, Ricardo's eyes are only open a sliver and he chuckles warmly, crawling in under the covers next to the younger man.

"El Patron," he mutters, gingerly rolling over to face him. Alberto tsks at him and carefully guides his arm once more out of the sling, not wanting him to get tangled up in it in his sleep. He rests it on the table before clicking the lamp off, sending the room into nearly perfect darkness before laying on his back, head tilting to watch as Ricardo dozes next to him. He stirs yet again, however, a few minutes later, and shifts closer to the Mexican aristocrat, laying his head on his shoulder as he stretches his bad arm out across his midsection.

Alberto shakes his head fondly, hoping that his restlessness won't keep him from getting a good amount of sleep, pressing his free hand on Ricardo's wrist before continuing to lightly massage his way up his arm to his shoulder, Ricardo's tense muscles slowly relaxing under his touch. This seems to help, Ricardo staying fast asleep until Alberto too succumbs to some much needed rest himself.


End file.
